


and i tried to buy your pretty heart, but the price too high

by staarliings



Series: tyrion's lovers [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Casual Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Morning After, Morning Sex, two idiots struggling to get over past love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staarliings/pseuds/staarliings
Summary: "So, you drag me back here, beg me to...fuck you hard, was it? And not even a good morning? Or a decent kiss?"For gaystannis, who unintentionally inspired me to write this.
Relationships: Jon Connington/Tyrion Lannister
Series: tyrion's lovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186760
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	and i tried to buy your pretty heart, but the price too high

Tyrion wakes to a bright light in his eyes and a heavy weight across his belly. His legs and hips are sore, his head pulses with pain, and his mouth tastes like something crawled in it and died. Gods, he needs a drink.

Slowly, he opens one eye, then the other, and looks down to find an arm draped over his body. Tracing his eyes over the freckled skin, he finds himself face to face with a sleeping Jon Connington, and nearly pisses himself.

It takes him a moment, blinking away sleep, for him to remember the night before. A bit too much wine, a bit too much bantering with Jon, and the feeling of his back pressed against the featherbed. His featherbed? Looking around the room, he sighs with relief when he realizes they are in his cabin and not the one Jon shared with young Griff. The boy would have a fit if he discovered his pretend father was fucking the noseless dwarf.

With a groan, Tyrion rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. The memory of Jon looming above him, his mouth desperate and greedy against his own, his rough hands on his hips, his thighs, his throbbing-

'Fuck,' he thinks his attention turning to his cock. Just the thought had made him hard, but he can't reach over Jon's enormous arm to relieve himself. So, with great care, he extracts himself from Jon's embrace and stumbles from the bed and goes to the corner where his chamberpot sits.

With his eyes on the wall, fighting the urge not to look back at the bed, Tyrion takes his cock in hand and goes to work, biting down on his free hand to keep from waking his sleeping bedmate. Relief washes over him when he comes, but the shame quickly follows as he washes his hands and begins to search for his trousers.

"Good morning." 

The low voice makes Tyrion nearly jump out of his skin. Turning to the bed, he sees Jon propped up on one elbow, his head in his hand. The sheets have fallen away, twisted around his hips, and reveal his bare torso. Tyrion feels his mouth go dry as he shifts on his feet.

There are thin, red scratches running down the man's chest and over his shoulders. 'Did I do that?' Tyrion thinks as he continues his search for his clothes.

"So, you drag me back here, beg me to...fuck you hard, was it? And not even a good morning? Or a decent kiss?"

"You shouldn't be here," Tyrion replies, his voice small and thin. "Griff will be-"

"Snoring and drooling onto his pillow. Come back to bed."

Jon extends a hand, and Tyrion hesitates a moment before abandoning hope of getting dressed and taking it. Jon pulls him in, rather roughly, and Tyrion finds himself almost straddling the man in his bed as their lips clumsily collide. Steadying himself, he winds his hands into Jon's hair and opens his mouth. The feeling of his lover's warm tongue in his mouth is enough to make him moan, and he does not protest when he feels himself turn and his back sink into the sheets.

"Good morning to you, too," Tyrion sighs as Jon buries his face into his neck, his legs spread to accommodate him. He can't reach the pillows beside him, so he opts to press his mouth to Jon's shoulder as he feels his lover teasing him. 

He nearly sobs at the feeling of the tip of his cock brushing his already sensitive entrance. A gentle thrust, the roll of Jon's hips, and Tyrion nearly loses it.

"So much for being worried," Jon's voice is low and gruff in his ear. "Keep quiet. Or do you want to wake the whole ship?"

He hears the sound of Jon reaching for the nightstand, the clink of the oil bottle as he prepares himself. He is slick as he slips himself inside Tyrion, and stops for a moment when he is fully sheathed. It is not an unfamiliar feeling, and Tyrion is glad to be on his back.

It's oddly quiet as they fuck. No dirty talk, no loud moaning or false pretenses. Just Jon's heavy breathing in his ear as they move together. Tyrion almost regrets the aches and pains he'll feel when this is over, but quickly forgets when he feels Jon's lips on his neck. They're nothing special, men's mouths rarely are, but they're warm and they don't spare Tyrion the ugly truths of life.

Better than the sweet lies of a whore.

When his muscles begin to tense, and his thighs tremble, Tyrion grips at Jon's shoulders, his blunt fingers finding familiar places where he dug them in the night before. He feels like he might drown, there's no air for him to breathe, and then he feels a tremor run through Jon's body and a warm sensation between his legs.

After, when they've cleaned themselves and tossed the ruined sheets into the corner, Tyrion turns and curls himself into Jon's side. The larger man freezes for a moment, then turns to accommodate him. They don't talk, but Tyrion feels a calloused palm on his side, sliding slowly up and down his naked form.

He almost feels grateful, almost wants to thank the ginger bastard for fucking him and not tossing him overboard like he's surely fantasized about. Resting his hand on Jon's chest, he wonders why this man is in his bed in the first place. 'What demons are you trying to chase away? Some old lover, perhaps?' Tyrion thinks, his own heart clenching. If he weren't already in the sake boat, he would almost be jealous.

"Well, you're not half bad for someone who can't stop running their mouth," Jon's voice breaks the silence.

"You're not so bad yourself, for such a serious man," Tyrion's jape earns him a pinch on his arse.

"Just be glad Lemore isn't here to see this. Woman thinks I'm in love with you."

"Love?" Tyrion chuckles. "I haven't felt that foolish notion since I poked holes in my father's bowels. Not since-"

He almost chokes on her name. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to drown out the sound of twisting chains, clinking coins, and the thrum of the crossbow. He has to touch Jon's slick skin to rid himself of the memory of the heavy wood in his hands.

A hand pulls him from his thoughts, grabs him by the chin and forces his gaze upward. The kiss, however, is soft and gentle. So unlike Jon. So unlike anyone.

"It's done. Let it pass," Jon murmurs after they break apart.

He almost sounds like he knows. Tyrion closes his eyes and turns his face inward. They slip back into sleep with the rest of the ship.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my official stab at ASOIAF/GOT fanfiction. Let me know what you think!


End file.
